


Dirty Talk

by SeverinadeStrango



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Akechi Mitsuhide is His Own Warning, Anal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Manipulation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Games, Submission, Surreal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-15 20:32:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17535764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeverinadeStrango/pseuds/SeverinadeStrango
Summary: Not the type of pain he truly craves, but it does come awfully close.





	Dirty Talk

Mitsuhide had made a promise to Matsunaga-dono, weeks (months?) ago, when he’d first come here – that there would be no more pain. It sounded like anything but a punishment, had Mitsuhide not been, well, himself – but here he was, giving up the one vice that he had so been ensnared in all to pay for his failures. He was regretting that now, curled up as compliant and helpless as a baby kitten in Matsunaga’s lap, his savior’s fingers caressing his face, and the fingers of his _other_ hand caressing a place much more _intimate._

“Hnn,” Mitsuhide whined, sliding a little further down Matsunaga’s chest, completely unable to support his own body weight by this point. Those fingers twitched. He could feel the smirk above him more than he could see it and god it was so tempting to give over already, to plead and scream for all he was worth because then he would be _worth_ something again, wouldn’t he?

Matsunaga was going to make him work for it. He wouldn’t have expected anything less.

You want this. You need this. 

Oh he _did_

This is what your purpose is, broken one. His name he did not need he had no use for it was gone now he had nothing left but a distant shell of what he once was he loathed he _loved_ it.

Poor little thing. Sparks running up and down his spine, both agonizingly hot and paralyzingly cold all at once he couldn’t move he couldn’t breathe he couldn’t do anything but to simply feel. This is where you are this is what you are good for. He knew. And a part of him fell a little deeper.

Come for me. 

Mitsuhide clutched to Matsunaga’s shoulders, and he did, whining and gasping and clawing at anything that he could reach. Cruel words and gentle touches and he could hardly tell one from the other, all melded together in this hellish little paradise. It was his haven, and whether he could escape or not didn’t matter – he wouldn’t have wanted to anyways.


End file.
